You Make it Feel Like Christmas
by wickedsingularity
Summary: [x-mas stories 2019 #2, one-shot] (Very very loosely based on Neil Diamond's song with the same title.) Steve usually runs off on missions during Christmas, not feeling very much like celebrating a modern Christmas. It's just not him. But this Christmas there is nothing for him to do, but hang around. And he can't help but find the holiday spirit again.


It was that time of year again. All the shops were decorated in some way, the grocery store was filled with Christmas themed food and candy, either with added Christmas spices or holiday-themed wrapping. Everywhere there was someone collecting for some kind of charity, preying on people's Christmas spirit or guilt to be extra generous. Christmas music was blasting from every speaker, there were Santa's everywhere with the "Ho Ho Ho!" and Christmas cheer.

It was all so much. So different from what he was used to.

Steve had been in the modern world for a few years now, and he felt very caught up with technology and history and social protocols, but there were some things he just couldn't wrap his head around.

His first Christmas out of the ice, he'd spent alone. He had been invited to Tony's Christmas party, Thor had asked if he'd want to come visit Asgard, Clint had said there would be room around the table for one more. But from the moment the first Christmas advertisement came on the television, it was all too much for Steve.

He didn't have much when he grew up, except his mom. And later, Bucky. They never had many decorations, except a very worn old Santa carved from wood that his mom had gotten for her grandpa when she was a child and some homemade garlands and maybe a candle on Christmas Eve. They never had a tree because of his allergies. The table was never overflowing with food, but his mom always managed to make whatever they had a little bit more special. He was always sicker during the winter. His asthma acted up in the cold weather, he caught every head and chest cold or stomach bug that was going around at school. But it was the spirit that Steve remembered. The smiles on his mom's face, the way she lit up when he had drawn a snowman or Christmas tree for her to hang on the wall.

That spirit was what made it Christmas for him. And that is what he missed.

He felt like the world had lost that. It was all colours and noise and forced cheer and everyone running around needing everything to be _perfect_. Steve just couldn't connect with any of it. So, he politely rejected all the invitations he'd gotten every year since the ice. He gladly took all the missions that came up during the holidays, letting someone else have the time off to spend with their family.

But this year, there were no missions, no emergencies, no crisis, no world to save. It was the first Christmas at the newly built Avengers Facility upstate New York, and there wasn't even anything to do with construction or furnishings he could help with, Tony had made sure everything was done before they moved in. He looked for something to do everywhere, paperwork, research, anything, but there was absolutely nothing.

"Come on, man, cheer up! It's Christmas!" Sam said, slapping Steve's back one morning a few days before Christmas. They'd just come back from their morning run and was heading for the kitchen to get something to eat before showering. Steve had told Sam some of his feelings about the holidays. "If you can't get the feel of Christmas, then at least enjoy the time off."

"Yeah..." Steve muttered, quickly opening a water bottle and downing the contents so he didn't have to say anything else.

* * *

"Hi, Steve," a cheery voice came from the counter. Steve was on the chaise, the newspaper spread out on the table, and he had been completely immersed in a story about a mysterious murder in Washington, wondering if he could go help solve it. He snapped his head up and saw _her_ there. She was about to make herself some hot chocolate, judging by the smell of warming milk from the saucepan on the stove. He hadn't even heard her come in.

"Hi," he said, closing the newspaper and folding it up.

"I'm so sad," she said, chopping up a bar of chocolate.

"Why?" Steve's heart hammered in his chest. She shouldn't be sad, she was always so happy and this was her absolute favourite time of year. What had made her sad? "Do I need to punch anyone?"

But there was a small smile on her face as she put away the last small piece of the chocolate bar and poured the chopped bits into a bowl. "You know very well I can punch anyone into the next century myself," she winked before she pouted. "There's no snow yet." Then she turned to the microwave and put the bowl in, setting it for 30 seconds.

Steve breathed out in relief, it was nothing serious. "Oh."

"Forecast says there's no chance of snow this year." She checked the warming milk, before taking the bowl out of the microwave and stirring. "Christmas needs snow." The bowl went back into the microwave.

"I suppose," Steve said quietly.

He watched as she continued to warm up and stir the chocolate several times. He had to admit it smelled delicious. She checked the milk again and nodded, turning the heat off. She poured the melted chocolate into the saucepan and stirred carefully for a while until she dipped a finger into the mixture and tasted. "Perfect." She expertly used the knife to create some chocolate shavings from the last bit she had saved, and then pulled out a bag of marshmallows, a can of whipped cream and two large mugs. Both mugs were filled and decorated, and then she walked over to Steve and gave one to him.

He took it with a questioning look up at her.

"Looked like you could use some." She shrugged and smiled, and then left with her own mug of hot chocolate.

Steve stared after her and only turned his attention back to the mug in his hand when the heat became a tad too much for his skin. He looked at it and marvelled at how beautiful she had made it, with slowly melting marshmallows, a perfect dollop of cream and some chocolate shavings on top. He took a sip and it was creamy and sweet, but not too sweet. He was pretty sure he had never tasted hot chocolate that good in his entire life. But it didn't surprise him that she was this good at it.

She loved Christmas. Everyone knew that. She had her presents planned and bought months before December, she started decorating the second Halloween was over, sometimes even before. She played Christmas music from the middle of November. She made bite-sized Christmas candy for the entire team and then some every year. Everything Christmas was her.

Steve padded back to his room, the mysterious murder in the newspaper totally forgotten. He passed Natasha on the way and she raised her eyebrows at the mug in his hands but didn't say anything.

Later that day, after dinner and some weightlifting where he and Sam spotted each other, Steve was ready to get to bed. But apparently, he had collected some plates and cups in the last few days, so he gathered them all and padded quietly towards the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher.

There was a bit of noise as he set the dishes down on the counter and there was a muffled sound. He snapped up and looked around towards the living area. The television was on, but the screen was blank, only the logo bouncing off the edges. Steve walked carefully closer and glanced over the back of the couch. She was there, sleeping, head resting on the arm of the couch. Wanda was sleeping with her head on the other arm, a blanket covering their legs. On the coffee table, there was an open and empty Blu-ray case. The inside was covered with teasing summaries of Christmas movies, so Steve guessed the girls had been watching one.

The remote was threatening to fall out of Wanda's hand, so Steve carefully took it from her and turned the television off. But the Scarlet Witch woke up. "Captain?" Her voice was scratchy.

"Just turning off the TV," Steve explained.

"We fell asleep. Didn't catch the end of the movie." Wanda sat up and yawned, the blanket falling to the floor. "I'll wake her up."

"No no!" Steve hissed. "As long as she's sleeping, let her."

Wanda smiled knowingly but agreed. "Okay." Then she grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her. "Goodnight, Steve."

"Goodnight."

As soon as Wanda had left, Steve took a moment to admire the sleeping form on the couch. She looked so peaceful, the glow of the Christmas tree that no one pulled the plug on at night made her look almost angelic. Steve pulled the blanket up a bit more and tucked her in carefully. The urge to kiss her washed over him, but he had no right to do that. So, he backed away and went to finish putting the dishes away as quietly as he could.

* * *

The next morning Steve decided to skip his morning run. It was wet and cold outside, rain hammering on the windows, and he just didn't want that. He decided to make himself a nice breakfast instead, and then he could get some exercise done in the gym later.

Natasha, Sam and Rhodey were already there in the kitchen when Steve came in. He did a quick detour to check the couch, but it was empty.

"Enjoy your hot chocolate yesterday?" Natasha asked, setting down her spoon in the bowl of cereal.

Steve hummed absentmindedly as he grabbed eggs and a pack of bacon from the fridge.

"She makes really good hot chocolate, doesn't she?"

"The best one I've had, I think," he replied, still too focused on the task at hand to hear the suggestive tone in Natasha's voice. Sam chuckled while he emptied the carton of orange juice and screwed the lid back on, but he stopped abruptly at the sound of very off-key singing coming up the stairs. This finally got Steve's attention too, he recognized the voice.

"_You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear, voices singing, let's be jolly, deck the halls with bou–_" She stopped short as she reached the top of the stairs, mouth open mid-word and eyes wide. She hastily pulled the earplugs out, the faint sound of Brenda Lee still singing coming from them. She looked like a wet cat, hair plastered to her head, her running clothes almost soaked through. "Sorry!" she apologized sheepishly, reaching into a pocket for her phone to turn off the music.

"You really can't sing, babe," Sam said amusedly.

"I know." She grinned. "I usually don't sing out loud either, but..."

"Christmas music," Rhodey finished for her.

"You actually went outside in that weather?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah, can't tell how much I'm sweating if it rains." She walked over the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and downed almost half the content. "Besides... If it's not going to snow for Christmas, then I'll damn well leave as much of my sweat out there as I can."

"You better get changed before you catch a cold," Steve said, adding bacon to a frying pan, trying very hard not to stare at her.

She glanced at what he was making and licked her lips. "Okay. If you make some of that for me too? I'm starving."

"Of course." Steve grinned.

She grinned back and hurried down the stairs again with the rest of her water.

Sam and Natasha began cleaning up after themselves and then left too. Rhodey was only halfway, having read the news on his tablet while he ate. He turned his attention back to the tablet and the slices of fruit he had left when Steve started humming.

"What was that?" Rhodey asked.

Steve stopped stirring the scrambled egg batter and looked up. "What?"

"Were you humming that song?"

"What song? No." Steve frowned.

Rhodey just nodded slowly. Then he pressed the lock button on the tablet, and grabbed it and the bowl of fruit and left the kitchen too.

Steve shook his head, no idea what the other man was on about and poured the batter onto a second frying pan. He began humming again to the melody of _Rockin' around the Christmas tree _and flipped the bacon before he started gently stirring the eggs.

It was a few minutes before he heard the humming himself, and he promptly stopped, a little shocked. He didn't start up again, but added some more bacon and quickly whipped up more scrambled eggs batter, getting it cooking.

Just as he was about to turn the oven off and get out the bread, she came back. Her hair was still wet, but he could smell the shampoo on her, even through the bacon and eggs.

"Smells delicious," she said and grabbed a couple of tomatoes from the fridge.

"Hope it tastes as good as it smells," Steve said, filling up two plates with the eggs and bacon and a few slices of toast.

"Impossible to muck up bacon and eggs. Do you want tomatoes on yours?"

"Sure."

She chopped quickly and expertly, and they were soon sitting on either side of the island, eating breakfast. Every once in a while, she would hum something Steve thought might be a Christmas song, but he couldn't be sure. But he found that he liked listening to her, even if even her humming was off-key sometimes.

"Do you have everything ready for Christmas, Steve?" she suddenly asked. They hadn't talked at all since they sat down and Steve enjoyed the silence with her. They had always been good friends and there had never been an awkward silence between them, so he wished she had let the silence continue rather than ask _that_ question. He didn't want to bring her down.

He chewed overly long on a too-small bite of bacon, before deciding on an answer. "I'm as ready as I need to be."

She frowned. Then she set her elbows on the counter and leaned her head in her hands, looking up at him. "I've noticed that you've never been around for Christmas before now. I've also noticed that you always jumped at the chance of taking a mission at this time of year. Just tell me to shut up if I'm being too nosy. You're not a Christmas person, are you, Steve Rogers?"

He sighed. Shoved the last of the eggs onto his fork, but set the fork down. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to sound like a grinch either. "I used to love Christmas. Way back when. But now... it's... so much."

She chewed her lip. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But you shouldn't let all the flash and hustle and bustle get to you. Don't let that control your Christmas. Just let it be what you want it to be, take what you need to make it a Christmas you enjoy. I just love the music and the lights and the snow. I can't get snow this year, so apparently, I compensate by torturing you guys with my singing." She chuckled.

"It wasn't torture!" Steve interjected. She just stared at him, her lips a thin line, until Steve broke into a grin. "Yeah okay, it was bad. But you have fun with it."

"That I do."

* * *

Christmas Eve arrived. Sam and Wanda had a big dinner planned, and the entire facility smelled of delicious food almost from the crack of dawn. Steve woke a bit later than he was used to, last night he had gotten the urge to turn off his alarm. He laid in bed for a little while, smelling the start of the feast, and started to look forward to it.

The sound of rain spattered on the windows, and he thought back to the conversation he'd had with her yesterday. She had mentioned snow again, she was clearly very upset that there was no snow to give her a white Christmas. He wondered if he could do something about that.

"_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know, where the treetops glisten and–_" He stopped abruptly. That was a song he used to sing with Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos during their off time fighting HYDRA. He hadn't sung or hummed a single tune since the ice and now he had done both in less than a day. He shook his head and climbed out of bed.

He was starting to enjoy not having anything to do. He'd thought he'd go mad with it, he thought he always needed some conflict or fight to resolve. But with everyone else hanging around the building, there was always someone to talk to. And he found himself gravitating more and more towards her.

Steve had had a crush on her for a long time now, but he hadn't allowed himself to let it become more than that and had been happy just being her friend. But seeing her now, with all the Christmas around, the one thing that made her so unbelievably happy, he couldn't help it. Around lunchtime, she'd curled up with Natasha on the couch for another Christmas movie and her famous hot chocolate. She'd slipped Steve a cup too, with a finger on her lips and _don't tell anyone_.

Rhodey, Clint and Vision had joined them at some point, and about halfway through, Steve had asked if he could sit down. She'd grinned and patted the space next to her on the couch. Fighting a blush, he sat down and lost the fight with the blush when she pulled the blanket she had curled around her legs over his legs too before leaning back into Natasha.

When the movie ended, she had stretched her legs over Steve's and she was completely snuggled into Natasha's side.

"Nat!" Sam's voice came from the kitchen area.

"What?"

"Now that the movie is over, Wanda says you have a recipe for a glaze that is to die for."

"I told you that in confidence, Maximoff!"

"I'm sorry, but Sam's just won't turn out right. Could you help us?"

Natasha sat up and threw the blanket off of herself. Then she glared around at everyone. "If you ever mention this to anyone, I will kill you."

"Duly noted," Steve said.

* * *

Dinner was a huge affair. Sam, Wanda and Natasha had made a magnificent feast and everyone was too full for comfort after, just half lying half sitting around the room after. There were some old Disney specials on TV, but no one really paid much attention. One after one, they retired for the evening. Steve was soon the only one left with her. She just laid across the arm of the couch, staring at the Christmas tree.

"I really wish there was snow, Steve," she said a few minutes after everyone else was gone. "I know there aren't any proper snowy Christmases anymore, the climate being what it is, but this year I just... Really wish there was snow."

Steve didn't say anything. He just laid a hand on the leg that was stretched out next to him. She moved up and leaned towards him, snuggling in under his arm, one of her hands making a fist on his blue shirt. Steve laid his arm over her and she made a sigh of content.

For a long while, they sat like that. It was the most relaxed and comfortable Steve had felt in... well, for as long as he could remember. The room was beautiful in the half darkness, Christmas lights and the last bit of the candles on the dinner table the only lights. It was a perfect moment. And it came to an end when she pulled away and sat up.

"I should go to bed."

"Me too."

"Thank you for sitting with me for a bit, Steve."

"Anytime."

"Goodnight."

"Night." He watched her walk away, thinking hard. Then he came to a decision. He fished his phone out of his pocket, scrolled through the contact list and pressed the name he was looking for. It rang for a few seconds before they answered. "Tony, it's Steve. I need a favour."

* * *

I woke early on Christmas morning, I hadn't slept all that well because I'd had too much for dinner. But I stayed in bed for a long time, not wanting to leave the warm comfort of it just yet. From the sound of it, no one else was up yet either.

After a while, I turned around to look out the window. I knew there would be no change, there was no chance of it, no one could pull off a weather miracle. I only knew one person who could change the weather, and he could only conjure rain and thunder. Not snow.

It was just as wet and dreary today as it had been for the past few days.

Like I had told Steve several times now, I really wanted snow. I don't know why it felt so important this year, why I wanted it so much. But I did. I didn't let it ruin my Christmas spirit though. There were too many other things to enjoy this time of year. Which is what made me jump out of bed. I would make hot chocolate for everyone to wake up to.

I got dressed in something a bit nicer than my completely worn out Christmas pyjamas and hurried off to the kitchen. But as I opened the door to the common area, I stopped dead. My jaw dropped, I couldn't believe what I saw. The entire, gigantic room was covered in snow. It really looked like someone had torn off the roof during a heavy snowfall. It was on the Christmas tree, the couches, the counter, the cabinets, the table, the chair, the television, the side tables, the floor... _Everywhere._ And _a lot_.

I squealed and ran inside. It wasn't wet or cold but still felt like real snow. I grabbed handfuls and threw it in the air, squealing and laughing.

"What the hell is going on?" Clint's voice came from the hall and others joined in.

"What is this?"

"What happened here?"

"Snow!" I screamed and fell to my knees, almost crying with happiness.

Rhodey, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Vision and Wanda were standing by the door, looking around in amazement. Then Steve came, he stopped by the door and leaned on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, a small smile on his lips.

"Steve?" I asked, he looked too smug to be allowed. "Did you do this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I hopped up and walked towards him. "You did this."

Everyone turned to look at him, but he just shrugged.

"I told you I wished for snow, and then this happened. You did this."

"Tony and I did this," he said. "I called him after everyone went to bed last night, and... well." He gestured with his head to the room.

I felt tears prick at my eyes. "Steve... This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Let's start opening presents, guys," Sam suggested and herded the others towards the snow-covered Christmas tree. "Leave those two to it."

"I can't believe you did this for me. You even said you're not that into Christmas anymore."

Steve pushed off the door frame and took one step towards me, standing so close I had to look up at him. I could count the lashes on him if my sight wasn't blurred by tears. He laid his hands on my face, thumbs wiping at them as they fell. "Someone seems to be changing that for me."

I swallowed down a sob. "Steve?"

He just smiled. Then he moved closer and his lips were on mine. I faintly heard someone whooping from across the room, but right at that moment, I didn't give a damn about anyone else, or the snow, or Christmas, or if all the aliens in the galaxy decided to invade Earth.

I'd had a crush on Steve for as long as I could remember, and it had just grown over the years. I felt like maybe he was interested in me too, but it seemed like none of us ever wanted to take that extra step. Whatever had changed his mind, I was very grateful.

Steve's lips moved agonizingly slow against mine, and they were so soft, so sweet. My heart was beating wildly in my chest, my hands reaching for his t-shirt, grabbing fistfuls of it.

All too soon and what felt like years later, I had to pull away for air. My eyes were still closed as I breathed heavily.

"Can we just...?" Steve asked, and I opened my eyes. He was gesturing to the hall, and I nodded. He took my hand I followed him out of the common room. The door closed behind us and then Steve stopped and turned to look at me. It looked like he was leaning in for another kiss, but then he spoke instead. "I hope I didn't cross any line doing that?"

"The kiss? You did. But I'm glad you did."

"Oh good."

"I've liked you for a long time, Steve," I started. "I just didn't know if I should..." I shrugged.

"I've felt the same way. But these last few days really opened my eyes."

"To Christmas?"

Steve laughed. "Yes, that too. But mostly you. Seeing you do Christmas. I think I'm falling for you." His hands were on my face again, and the way he looked at me brought the lump back in my throat. His face was moving closer, my heart beating faster and faster the closer he got. I was feeling a little dizzy.

"I wonder..." I whispered.

"What?" The word fanned his breath over my face.

"If you'll still like me when Christmas is over." I blinked rapidly, wanting to close my eyes but also never stop looking at him.

His lips were so close to mine I could almost feel the words against them as he spoke. "I know I will."


End file.
